When We Were Wizards- The Story of D&D, An Oral History of Dungeons and Dragons

 

I went into When We Were Wizards expecting the usual: a polished nostalgia piece about the “good old days,” a bit of myth-making, and the same recycled narrative about how it all came together like lightning in a bottle.

That’s not what this is.

This is very well done.

Production-wise, it’s tight. Clean narration, strong pacing, and it actually respects the listener’s time. No rambling, no filler. It moves. More importantly, it builds. Each episode adds weight instead of just circling the same talking points you’ve heard a hundred times before.

But where it really stands out?

It’s willing to get uncomfortable.

The story of TSR, and the people behind it, especially Gary Gygax and Dave Arneson isn’t told like a campfire legend. It’s messy. It’s human. It’s full of ego, missteps, clashes, and decisions that don’t always age well.

And here’s the part that’s going to ruffle feathers:

If even half of what’s presented here is true, then the online narrative that paints Gygax as some flawless architect of the hobby is complete nonsense.

Absolute nonsense.

This doesn’t diminish what he accomplished. Not even close. Co-creating D&D is still one of the most important moments in gaming history. That doesn’t change.

But this podcast does something a lot of people don’t want to do: it separates achievement from myth.

Gygax comes across as brilliant, driven…and flawed. Very flawed. Same goes for Arneson. Same goes for just about everyone involved. Which, frankly, makes the whole story more compelling, not less.

Because now it actually feels real.

What you get here isn’t a sanitized origin story. It’s a collision of personalities at the exact moment this hobby was being born. Deals, disagreements, credit disputes, business decisions; some smart, some questionable, some outright disastrous.

That’s the story.

And it’s a better one than the polished version.

Now, is everything in this podcast gospel? Probably not. No historical retelling ever is. There’s always framing, always perspective. But that’s not really the point.

The point is that it challenges the comfortable version of events.

And honestly? That alone makes it worth your time.

So where do I land?

This is one of the better pieces of RPG history content I’ve come across. Not because it tells you what you want to hear...but because it doesn’t. If you’re looking for hero worship, this isn’t it.

If you want something closer to the truth; even if that truth is a little inconvenient? Then yeah, this is absolutely worth a listen.

And to close? I have immense respect for Gary and Dave. That also does not blind me to totality of the story. 

The "Diceimation" of my d20s

"The prisoner ready for execution..."

Wikipedia defines Decimation as follows: "a form of Roman military discipline in which every tenth man in a group was executed by his cohorts." It was used to discipline large groups in the Roman Army for failures like cowardice, desertion or disobedience.

In my case the charge against my d20s was unmistakable: disobedience. Punishment was needed.

With this definition my thoughts turned to the lackluster results of my d20s in far too many gaming sessions over the last decade. It was during last night’s gaming session that it came to a head. My underwhelming dice continued their pathetic "performances" and would not turn over a result higher than six over the course of several hours. I finally had enough. I had enough of their mocking, their failures, their sneering at me as if they were saying: "Oh yeah? What are YOU going to do about it?" They were about to learn what I would do about it...

My gaming friends and I then side-barred in the game and remarked about how truly crappy my dice rolls have been for at least a decade. This included the fact that I once went six years between rolling a 20 in game. I then remarked I should "punish them." But how? Placing them with my 3rd Edition books "to teach them a lesson" (I do not have any 4th edition ones — but that might violate "Cruel and Unusual punishment"), time spent in the "Pit of Doom"?, making them sit in a corner and other milder methods?

I knew that I had to get the attention of my dice and the method would need to be one that conveyed how deadly serious I was. I have suffered for their poor performances across gaming systems for far, far too long; from poor rolls in Star Wars, D&D to AD&D. Tread lightly now. No more. It was time to make an example of one of them. It was time for them to know fear.

As luck would have it there were twenty d20s in my bag, a perfect number for a decimation. I rolled — the lowest rolling die would be the one to suffer the punishment. It would be they that would decide their fate, not me, just like the Roman Legions of old. None were spared from the selection process, not even the ancient dice from my Basic and Expert D&D sets from Christmas 1982, not my (in)famous smoke d20 known for rolling 19s quite often (though not for the last 10 years) from my Junior High and High School years. I rolled the twenty dice and the unlucky die was selected... the blue d20 with the chipped numbers it was.

Off to the workbench in the garage. I contemplated hammers, but realized the die would skip off into the environs of the garage somewhere in a pathetic attempt to avoid its fate... So I decided to crush it with my workbench vice. I lined up other d20s to witness the "dice-cimation" in order to teach them a lesson. There would be no averting their gaze. They trembled in fear, a few sneered not believing that I really would do this. Little did they know how serious I was.

With the victim in the vice... it got one last laugh before its fate was sealed. Turns out dice are incredibly solid! The vice would not crush it. No matter how much pressure I applied the die did not even dent! Its execution temporarily staved off it was as if it was mocking me one last time.

Undeterred I moved onto a MAP gas torch. The torch has been very handy for the restoration of my 1967 John Deere tractor, it was time for it to pull double duty. Once heated up I secured the die in the vice and used my sledge hammer... the offending die then shattered and as expected a few pieces shot out across the garage. I gathered up the d20 and displayed its now broken remains to its fellows.

The rest of my d20s looked in horror and a few shot daggers at me, hating me for the deed that was just done. Prior, they had not believed that I would do such a thing, to resort to such brutal methods, smugly secure that they could continue their under-performing ways.

I coldly looked at the cohort of dice and warned them if they continued to fail me one of the survivors would be next... And if it still continued, another after that. I paused and glared at all of the assemblage and repeated my threat a third time. My words sunk in.

It was at that moment — and not the remains of their shattered friend before them — that it finally dawned on them how much I meant business. Once the execution was over they were paraded past the shattered remains of their fallen comrade. Not a word was uttered as if they could see themselves as the next one.

The message was received and they silently went into the dice bag wondering which one of them would be next. Fear now gripped them where there had once been arrogance or casual indifference. No more. As I reflected on the lesson my dice had just learned it occurred to me: the die that broke the streak of no 20s for six years? It was the very blue d20 pictured above that was "dice-imated." Karma is funny like that.

The price of failure...

 The disciplining of the troops is now over. We will see in a couple of weeks if the rest of the d20s got the message.

Of hanging paper gravestones on the DM screen...

Gravestones on the DM Screen: A High School Foray into Ravenloft

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, high school was a golden era of gaming for our group—and few sessions were as brutal or memorable as our run through I6: Ravenloft. This isn’t a formal review of the module. Instead, it’s a blood-soaked recollection of how one sadistic DM tossed us headlong into the Barovian meat grinder—and gleefully hung gravestones for every fallen PC.

The players were mostly the same usual suspects: Dave, Jim, Daryl, Tom, Mike, and myself. Jeff, of course, was behind the screen. We'd just wrapped THECAMPAIGN and dabbled in some Warhammer Fantasy Roleplay and Twilight 2000 before returning to AD&D for this deadly one-shot.

Jeff gave us some leeway with character creation, including a starting XP allotment and a short list of magic items (subject to DM approval). I rolled up a 6th-level human cavalier named Sir Alexander Silverglade—an absurdly noble name for a high schooler to dream up, though apparently I went all-in: Alexander William Christian Edward Kenneth Silverglade. Upper-Upper Class. Tenth in line to something or other. Clearly royalty, and clearly doomed. Naturally, Sir Alex for short.

I still have the character sheet. He wore full plate, carried a shield +2, and wielded a Rod of Lordly Might Jeff had forgotten the functions of—thankfully for me. My attempt to sneak in a +1 Flame Tongue sword was denied and replaced with a vanilla +2. But with high stats (18s in STR, DEX, and CON), full armor, and a preposterously low AC of -6, he was built like a tank. Cavalier perks from Unearthed Arcana gave him damage absorption, fear immunity, and mind control resistance.

Did it help? Only just, perhaps not even.

We were allowed three magic items. I picked strategically—borderline exploitative, really—but it didn’t save us. The adventure began in classic Ravenloft fashion: dropped into Barovia at dusk, wolves howling, villagers fearful, and death already sniffing around the edges.

We made a brief stop at the “Blood on the Vine” Tavern, then poked around Bildrath’s Mercantile and scraped together what we could. It wasn’t much. With night fast approaching, we barricaded ourselves inside an abandoned house to wait for dawn before approaching Castle Ravenloft.

Big mistake.

If you’ve read I6, you know the nighttime random encounters are no joke. Every three turns, 1–2 on a d6? With encounters like wolves, zombies, wraiths, ghosts—and oh yeah, Strahd himself, with his bat and wolf entourage? We got the full buffet:

• Strahd showed up with wolves and bats.
• Zombies broke through.
• Wraiths seeped in.
• A ghost floated through the walls.
• At least one PC was level-drained.
• My character was aged 40 years by the ghost.

I argued (rules lawyer alert) that my cavalier’s immunity to fear should also cover the ghost’s aging effect. Jeff didn’t buy it. Sir Alexander aged from 22 to 62 in an instant. The following week, Jeff reduced it to 10 years—maybe out of mercy, maybe not. Either way, I claimed a moral victory.

But the real gut punch came when Jeff unveiled a house rule (and a flair for the dramatic): whenever a character died, he’d hang a printed gray tombstone on his DM screen with the fallen’s name written in Sharpie. The first casualty? My squire, William, mauled by wolves in a side room. Jeff hung his gravestone like a trophy, grinning as the rest of us sat in stunned silence.

By the end, the screen was covered in tombstones.

We eventually made it into Castle Ravenloft—barely. Through random encounter rolls and pure chance, we ended up starting on the upper levels, near the “Rooms of Weeping.” I was the party mapper, so I still recall the progression ending abruptly near rooms K36–K46. We didn’t get much farther. Supposedly the hilt I carried was the Sun Sword, and the blade was in K41. Not that it mattered.

The final battle was a bloodbath. I remember Strahd attacking with a pack of specters and wraiths. Our cleric died almost instantly. I think I was the only fighter type left standing. Thanks to my AC and cavalier resistances, I tanked most of the assault while the rest of the group got drained or shredded. I was eventually dropped to 4th level by two wraith hits—but I lived. Barely.

Sir Alexander was the sole survivor.

The game ended there.

Jeff ruled that the mists of Ravenloft wouldn’t let him escape, so in my headcanon he found refuge at the chapel in Barovia, helping Donavich defend it nightly. Still aging, still armored, still bitter. I always thought that if I ever ran I6 myself, I’d reintroduce him as a weary old knight clinging to his code in a world long since lost to darkness.

We never played Ravenloft again. Our group wasn’t that into gothic horror, and while I later picked up the module (still in pristine condition), I’ve always felt the random encounters were more dangerous than the rest of the dungeon. Still, it was a hell of a session—especially the gravestones. That image of Jeff’s DM screen, covered in the names of fallen PCs, has stuck with me for decades.

And no, I’m not being paid for this—but if you want a legal, affordable copy of I6: Ravenloft, you can find it here.

Dragon Magazine Retrospective: My Favorite Issues and Why They Still Matter

 

Everyone has their “Golden Age” when it comes to Dragon magazine, and in reality it’s no different than say White Dwarf. A lot of one’s views will be dependent on just where you entered gaming. As I’ve discussed on this blog and on sites like Dragonsfoot before, I was a latecomer to 1st Edition AD&D in terms of its product run. I started gaming in 1982, but for years my friends and I really mixed and matched stuff together as we explored the game. In other words, like a lot of kids I suspect we freely mixed and matched 1st Edition and Basic and never thought twice about doing so.

So with that in mind, I really didn’t start reading Dragon on a consistent basis until well after many 1st Edition gamers would consider it to be on the decline. To me this is puzzling because around #105 things started to get really good, again from my perspective.

The run from about issue #80 till around #170 fits my style of gaming perfectly: detailing out first edition stuff (albeit late 1st) that I can easily insert into my 2nd Edition games with little or no fuss. To me there is little I have to change — it fits like a glove. 

In a no particular order here are my top ten all time favorite Dragon magazine issues with their overall themes.
 

1. #134- Dragons - This issue is the be-all, end-all when it comes to dragons and anything dragon-related. It’s a great reference for amping up 1st Edition dragons and good dragon tactics in general. The cover is pretty cool too, a bit weird now, but still cool.

 

2. #125- Chivalry - Back in the day I played quite a number of cavaliers and played them a lot, not for any power-gaming reasons, but more for stomping foes into the dust in the name of king and country! Being the first book I bought with my own cash

aka (Unearthed Arcana) probably had something to do with it). In terms of iconic images, there aren’t many more powerful than a knight on horseback, lance leveled. I think I wore out my copy back in the day reading and rereading this thing. Even the other articles not dealing with knights are damn cool.

As far as the cover, look at that! A historical-based Arthur, how cool is that? Couple this issue with #118 (see below), the Arthurian characters from the Deities and Demigods (Legends and Lore) from 1st Edition, and you’re well on your way to an Arthurian-themed campaign. 

3. #127- Call to Arms - This is just as good as #125 in my book. There is so much meat in this you need a fork and knife. Single-class fighters are probably my second favorite class after fighter/mage. When you look at the options and idea starters this gives the DM and players, you can couple this with #125 and #119 for everything one would need for a strong feudal-style campaign akin to the

Again, the cover on this is epic. I think I drew that cover multiple times as an early teen. There is so much going on. I especially love the one orc saying basically “Ok, let’s go at this one last time!”

 
4. #136- Urban Adventures - Damn, this cover rocks too — see a pattern here? Urban adventures are a very underutilized part of the game in my opinion and often an area where newer players simply see as a “store” to exchange stuff for stuff they want from “shop-keepers.” What #136 does is give the DM a great host of options, and the article “50 Ways to Foil Your Players” is a gem in my opinion.

If that were not enough, there is a great golem article, a very good Star Frontiers one, and a host of others. In short, you can’t go wrong with the options this issue gives you.

5. #138 Dreadful Tidings - This one gets special mention for two reasons: a wide selection of alternative undead types which I’ve used for years (Hungry Dead, anyone?) and the article on the plague. The rest of it is a bit skimpy, but the two articles more than make up for it. The cover isn’t bad and has a good deal going on, but for some reason it doesn’t register with me. 

 

6. #160- The City Never Sleeps - Tie this in with #136 and you’ve got everything you need for down-and-dirty city creation and defenses in a magical world. Thieves guild articles and others fill out the special section nicely. I especially like the maps of the Inn of the Last Call.

For issue #160 the cover is okay, not my favorite, but okay. The real meat in this one is the articles.

7. #123- Arcane Arts - This cover sets the tone and is a great tool to use for the magically inclined characters of the campaign world. The special section has three outstanding articles and the Arcane Lore section with fire-related spells is fantastic. Of special note is the idea of the “Arcane College,” a great tool for DMs to use when PC mages get to higher levels.

Legends and Lore has Oriental heroes and the Marvel-Phile section has some of the heralds of Galactus.

 8. #118- Competitions and Tournaments - Tie this into #125 and Arthurian Britain (legendary, not quasi-historical) and away we go. Ever wonder about how to stage a tourney? Wonder no more — follow the pointers in this section and you’re well on the way to a good framework for a fair, festival, or what have you. Also consider the article “The Fairest of the Fairs” (#137) in conjunction with this issue for further idea kick-starters.

Some folks will not like this issue as it contains the infamous article heralding the coming of 2nd Edition by Zeb Cook — who makes the cut in terms of classes and who doesn’t… I’ll leave it at that to cut down on the rancor. Personally, I think Zeb did a great job given the circumstances.

This cover is awesome and the last of the great chess series that ran for years by the artist Denis Beauvais.

9. #116- Maritime Adventures - 

Long before “Of Ships and the Sea,” I used this issue to great effect as it covers everything needed for ships and sailing in a fantasy setting. As I got older I still liked the idea behind it, but I’ve never liked the idea of Ships of the Line akin to HMS Victory in a world of high medieval tech. To me a cog or at most a caravel represents the levels of seaborne tech for most worlds. And for me a caravel would be on the high side of maritime technology.

The cover is what it is: a picture of a red dragon mini with some smoke effects added. Nice, but not great.

The whole issue is great by my estimation and there really isn’t a bad article in it.

10. #106 - This was tough as I’m tempted to pick the likes of #115, #145, #148, #167 or #178. I give the nod to #106 solely based on the strength of the article “A Plethora of Paladins.” The Illrigger alone is so cool you can’t go wrong with it, and the class has featured in my 2nd Edition games.

In fact, it was the Illrigger that made me reevaluate kits and dump them emtirely much from my 2nd Edition games. I find most of the NPC classes work just fine in 2nd Edition and you can easily use them with the likes of “Sages and Specialists,” which are more akin to NPC classes in presentation anyway.

The cover…while not a "chain mail bikini" it’s starting to get close.

Honorable mention / runner-up status goes to the likes of #99 (for the expanded sword system and troop tables), #102 (Anti-Ranger), #119 (Druids), and #124 (Airborne Adventuring). The cover of #119 is especially awesome! #126 is another favorite of mine, especially for the cover.

These issues for me were the “sweet spot” of gaming articles and heavily influenced my gaming and my perception of the game. It probably also explains why, to some degree, 2nd Edition became such a non-issue to me. My group and I were already mix-and-matching the various gaming systems for years. When 2nd Edition came out we continued to do so.

Gygax & Arneson vs. Jobs & Raskin: The Unsung Co-Creators Behind Big Revolutions

Who and Who?

Most people in the gaming world know the name Gary Gygax, but fewer recognize Dave Arneson. Likewise, in the tech world, Steve Jobs is a household name—Jef Raskin, not so much.

But the parallels between these two pairs are worth considering.

If you’re curious about the early days of personal computing, Andy Hertzfeld’s site is an incredible resource. He was one of the original eight creators of the Macintosh, and his behind-the-scenes stories offer a glimpse into how the Mac came to be. You can even find the iconic 1983–84 photo of the team there.

Jef Raskin was the one who originally envisioned the Macintosh project—until Jobs took it over and radically changed its direction. Sound familiar?

In the early days of D&D, Arneson showed Gygax some of his early ideas. Gygax ran with them and expanded the concept into something bigger. The tricky part is: we’ll never really know how much of what became D&D was Gary’s and how much was Dave’s. My gut says it was a mix—each pulling from different sources, shaping the foundation together.

In both cases, one figure became the face of a revolution, while the other became a footnote—despite having sparked the original idea. And in both cases, the full story is messy. In Arneson’s case, legal disputes kept parts of it sealed. In Raskin’s case, his original vision for the Mac can only be glimpsed through later projects like the Canon Cat, a fascinating what-could-have-been.

None of this is to discount Gygax or Jobs. Gygax’s genius was in pulling together disparate influences into something greater. Jobs had a vision that changed the world. But both men stood on the shoulders of others—collaborators, visionaries, and unsung pioneers.

So here’s some food for thought: How do we measure creative credit? How do we honor the sparks and the flames?

I encourage you to read more about Dave Arneson and Jef Raskin. Let me know what you think. Am I way off, or closer than I realize?

Who and who, you may ask?

Most people in the gaming world know the name Gary Gygax, but fewer recognize Dave Arneson. Likewise, in the tech world, Steve Jobs is a household name—Jef Raskin, not so much.

But the parallels between these two pairs are worth considering.

Dave Arneson, co-creator of D&D

If you’re curious about the early days of personal computing, Andy Hertzfeld’s site folklore.org is an incredible resource. He was one of the original eight creators of the Macintosh, and his behind-the-scenes stories offer a fascinating glimpse into how the Mac came to be. You can even find the iconic 1983–84 team photo there, along with updates on where the team was as of 2012.

Jef Raskin was the one who originally envisioned the Macintosh project — until Steve Jobs took it over and radically changed its direction.

Sound familiar?

In the early days of D&D, Arneson showed Gygax some of his early ideas. Gygax ran with them and expanded the concept into something much bigger. The tricky part is: we’ll never really know how much of what became D&D was Gary’s and how much was Dave’s. My gut says it was a true mix
— each pulling from different sources, shaping the foundation together.

In both cases, one figure became the face of a revolution, while the other became a footnote — despite having sparked the original idea. And in both cases, the full story is messy. In Arneson’s case, legal disputes kept parts of it sealed. In Raskin’s case, his original vision for the Mac can only be glimpsed through later projects like the Canon Cat — an interesting “what might have been.”

None of this is to discount Gygax or Jobs. Gygax’s genius was in pulling together disparate influences into something greater. Jobs had a vision that changed the world. But both men stood on the shoulders of others: collaborators, visionaries, and unsung pioneers.

So here’s some food for thought: How do we measure creative credit? How do we honor the sparks and the flames?

In 1985, both Steve and Gary lost control of the companies they helped create. Perhaps a blog post for another time.

I encourage you to read more about Dave Arneson and Jef Raskin. Let me know what you think. Am I way off, or closer than I realize?

THAC0: The Great Divide? What the Hell?

F (ExTSR) is Frank, as in Frank Mentzer, longtime cohort of Gary Gygax, writer of the Red Box (1983) of D&D Basic and one of the few active folks from the advent of TSR and the role-playing age on Dragonsfoot (which is now no longer the case).

There are people who think of THAC0 solely as a 2nd Edition AD&D creation when in fact according to Frank it predates 1st Edition and may even have been in common parlance around the time of the Lake Geneva Campaign. And again for those that don't know the Lake Geneva Campaign was THE grand-daddy of them all in terms of RPGs campaigns; it was the one that Gary DM'ed and well, pretty much wrote AD&D as we know it.

Now on to THAC0 itself: THAC0 stands for "To Hit Armor Class (Zero)."

In 2nd edition AD&D in melee combat, one rolls a d20 and compares it against their THAC0 score. For example if your THAC0 score is a 18 and you roll a 14 you would hit Armor Class 4. In other words, straight up on the die with no modifiers THAC0 represents the roll you need to hit AC 0 on a d20. In a nutshell that's all there is to it. So why is it that people look like this when you bring up the subject of THAC0 in gaming circles?

"Is it THACO or THAC0? I don't see the difference...

Seriously, simple math is that hard folks? The only argument that I can see possibly being made is for a unified mechanical rule of later editions which THAC0 is not. But, then again 1st and 2nd Edition has lots of wonky bits to it anyways. 3rd edition and later did tidy up stuff, but abandoned this one when it wasn't broken. Plus I'm not a fan of a single mechanic simply for its own sake, but can see the utility in some systems.

Maybe its the seemingly "weird" subtractions say for speed factor where lower is better. Sure AD&D (both 1st and 2nd) are not consistent whether high or low rolls are good or bad.

But the next time somebody starts squawking about the "difficulty" of simple math and unified mechanics being superior just point out they can, you know...do math. For the older grognard crowd point out that THAC0 appears in their "Ye Olde Holy Book" aka the 1st edition Dungeon Master's Guide written by Gary Gygax. For those who want to save vs disbelieve its right there on pages 196-214.

Be prepared to save vs. long winded diatribe regarding about how Gary didn't really like it. Dudes... shut the Hell up, it's in the freaking book, your book no less.

And if you are having issues? Here is a great breakdown of how THAC0 works.

The Shortest Print Run in D&D History – And Why I’m Not Golf-Clapping at 4e’s Funeral

So long 4th edition, we hardly knew ya!

To be quite honest, I really don’t care what edition (or game) someone wants to play. 3rd edition D&D? Castles and Crusades? Lamentations of the Flame Princess, or anything in between? It’s not my cup of tea to rain on someone else’s parade. Now if we are talking FATAL then yeah, that goes out the window.

Enter the anti-2e crowd.

Suffice it to say my opinion of them is about as high as a kobold in good standing, which is to say, not much. And now that leaves the abuse that’s sure to come your way. My best defense against these clowns is a good offense.

With that said, I feel a strange kinship with 4th edition D&D fans right now. A four-year print run for the “current edition” of D&D is shockingly short. Wow, the shortest of them all actually. 4th edition has officially taken the mantle of whipping boy.

I’m not going to golf-clap at the funeral in classic grognard style, though. Your game might not have been my game, but I have a good deal of sympathy for you. My best advice: go on the offensive. When grognards tell you your edition sucks, point out the very real flaws of 1st edition AD&D (there are plenty). Don’t let them fool you. Initiative, horrible organization, psionics, and more, there’s plenty of fodder there. And this is from someone who likes 1st Edition very much.

Am I promoting edition wars? Some might see it that way. But I like to point out that most of us 2e folks were generally “live and let live”… until we got online and ran into the rabid neck beards (see definition #6). Then we learned real quick. Want proof? There are people online who actually believe Terrible Trouble at Tragidore is somehow representative of 2nd edition module quality.

Meanwhile, they’ve never laid eyes on the run of Dungeon magazine from issues #18–81, which rank among some of the best modules of all time. Modules like The Iron Orb of the Duergar, The Mud Sorcerer’s Tomb, and Kingdom of the Ghouls are insanely great to name but a few.

If you stay the course for your favored edition, then by all means do so, and don’t let anyone tell you different. Your game is not my game, but I can’t help but feel a kinship. Your edition is now going to be the least supported of them all:

• 0e, Basic, 1st, and 2nd are more or less interchangeable despite what anyone may think.
• 3rd had a mountain of material, and Pathfinder can easily fill the gap.
• That leaves 4th on its own island…

I say this because it looks like 5th edition is (allegedly) going back to its roots. Time will tell there.

In closing its going to be a lonely road, but if it's your course steer it: "Second star to the right... and straight on until morning."

(Yes I know it's from Peter and Wendy.)

Stoneskin: The Most Abused Spell in 2nd Edition AD&D?

Ahhh Stoneskin... I've thought I had this spell down pat over the years then looked at others' interpretations of it and thought they were right and then went back to the source and wondered if there is no clear-cut definition on perhaps the most abused spell in 2nd edition AD&D.

I must admit I've played 2nd Edition Advanced Dungeons and Dragons for years and thought I knew this spell inside and out. But much like a quirky politicians language in a law it's a bit puzzling in its phrasing. There is one pertinent part that is unclear or at least hinges on how it's interpreted. By this I mean consider the following:

Stoneskin
4th level Mage spell (page 163 in the 2nd Edition Players Handbook)
Range: Touch
Components: V, S M
Duration: Special
Casting Time: 1
Area of Effect: 1 creature
Saving Throw: None

When this spell is cast, the affected creature gains virtual immunity to any attack by cut, blow, projectile or the like. even a sword of sharpness cannot affect a creature protected by stoneskin, nor can a rock hurled by a giant, a snake's strike, etc. However, magical attacks from such spells as fireball. magic missile, lightning bolt, and so forth have their normal effects. The spell blocks 1d4 attacks, plus one attack per two levels of of experience of the caster has achieved. This limit apples regardless of attack rolls and regardless of whether the attack was physical or magical. For example, a stoneskin  spell cast by a 9th-level wizard would protect against five and eight attacks. An attacking griffon would reduce the protection by three each round; four magic missiles would count as four attacks in addition to inflicting their normal damage.

The material components of the spell are granite and diamond dust sprinkled on the recipient's skin.

Now I'm no rules lawyer, but the section that says "This limit applies regardless of attack rolls and regardless of whether the attack was physical or magical."

Now you can interpret it to say: Attack rolls whether the hit or not remove one "skin" from the spell.

Or you could say it doesn't, much...

So what did Sage Advice have to say about it?

Stoneskin:

"This spell is subject to considerable abuse by player characters. Multiple stoneskins placed on a single creature are not cumulative. If two or more stoneskin spells are cast on the same creature, roll normally for the number of attacks each spell protects against. If a new spell protects against more attacks than the present spell does, the recipient gets the benefit of the increased protection; otherwise there is no effect. The caster does not necessarily know how many attacks the spell can shield him from.

Stoneskin protects only against blows, cuts, pokes, and slashes directed at the recipient. It does not protect against falls, magical attacks, touch-delivered special attacks (such as touch-delivered spells, energy draining, green slime, etc.), or non-magical attacks that do not involve blows (such as flaming oil, ingested or inhaled poisons, acid, constriction, and suffocation). Stoneskin lasts for 24 hours or until the spell has absorbed its allotment of attacks."

Well...this helps, but only a little.

Restless Rust Monster Games- WA2- Assault of the Hill Giant Raiders, a Free Module

 

Raiding and pillaging just for fun!

 

(Edit 7-6-26) This post has been rewritten to allow for the free download of one of my modules WA2- Assault of the Hill Giant Raiders, set in my campaign world. In the end I decided against becoming a published module writer and focused on other endeavors.

WA2- Assault of the Hill Giant Raiders can be downloaded here. 

Original Post

I've mentioned it a few times on various websites, but I've been ever so slowly expanding my written modules for 2nd edition Advanced Dungeons and Dragons. The ultimate goal of this is to get a number together for sale and make them available for print-on-demand at Lulu.

Eventually I think I might include some 1st edition ones as well but we'll have to see where this takes me first. One idea for 1st edition I've been mulling over is a Tiamat inspired adventure. Plus as time and creatively allows I'm re-writing the Planar Webs of Lolth (in place of Queen of the Demonweb Pits).

The Tiamat one could be sprawling and like the redo of the Webs is planar. Maybe I should key them as modules OP2 and OP3; after all I don't think there were any that I remember of after OP1...But I digress.

As of right now I've got my first one WA2 - Assault of the Hill Giant Raiders well underway, but at the rate I'm going it still could be a while. The reason it's WA2 and not WA1 is that WA1 is mammoth and is taking forever to write. What I need to do is focus and finish on something. WA2 is the closest to being done as I ran it in my 2nd Edition AD&D game a few months back. I'm at the point where the layout is largely ready and it's finally down to art being needed. And therein lies the tough part: As I've said at www.purpleworm.org (now mirrored here). I'm willing to meet an artist(s) in terms of "talking turkey", but the costs I've heard so far are way up there. 

Bear in mind this is an old school hobby individual (me), not a major, mid or even lower level publisher we are talking about.

In any event, keep an eye out for Restless Rust Monster Games in the future, but just don't hold your breath for things being quick unless I see a high level of demand.

Who Inherits Old School? A Look at D&D’s Generational Divide

 

Buckle up...this one could get bumpy.

On the way to work the other day, I found myself thinking about succession—not in the Game of Thrones sense, but in the natural evolution of Dungeons & Dragons. Specifically, who are the heirs to the older editions of the game? Where does the torch pass, and when does that lineage end?

The Dungeon Master himself!

To even begin to answer that, you have to look at the early generations of players—those who played Basic or 1st Edition AD&D when those were the current versions. These were the gamers of the late ’70s and early ’80s, many now in their 50s and 60s (and now even older). A number of the original creators: Gary Gygax, Dave Arneson, are no longer with us. And with each passing year, the pool of gamers who experienced that era firsthand grows smaller. 

OD&D (as its called retroactively) got the ball rolling with the first iterations of the game and Chainmail that proceeded it. Those guys were the start of RPGs as we know them now.

Even 2nd Edition AD&D, the version many of us later adopters came up with, is now over two decades old. A whole new generation has emerged since then, shaped by modern design philosophies, digital interfaces, and the ever-growing influence of video games.

It’s easy to forget that there was a time when RPGs had no expectations or templates. Some of the earliest players were literally inventing the hobby as they went. Many of them were gaming when computers like the Altair were considered cutting edge( see below). Compare that to now; when the average new player likely encountered role playing first through a Twitch stream or a sleek, modern rule set like 5e.

Never had one, I had an Atari 800 XL!

As someone who was born in the early ’70s and got the Moldvay Basic Set for Christmas in 1981, I straddle a particular generational line. I’m certainly not one of the original "old-schoolers", but I’m also not part of the modern wave. I sit squarely in the middle: a "hybrid player" as I call them who grew up with Basic, 1st Edition, and eventually 2nd Edition, sometimes all at once.

And I think that "middle-ground generation", players like me—might be the last true link to the wild, formative years of tabletop role playing. This is for no other reason of timing of our age.

We were there for the late bloom of 1st Edition, with all its quirks and contradictions. We embraced Unearthed Arcana, the Wilderness Survival Guide (somewhat) and all the other modules and side books that added flavor to our sessions despite their flaws. We transitioned into 2nd Edition when it launched in 1989 and treated it not as a hard reboot, but a continuation. We didn’t draw stark lines between editions; we mixed and matched freely, long before the idea of edition purity became a talking point.

Sure, purists might argue that only the earliest wave of solely 1st Edition players are the real inheritors of “old school.” But I disagree. That later wave, those who played Basic and 1st and 2nd concurrently, were the last ones who treated those versions as living systems, not museum pieces. We were the ones who grew up with the original rules. We may not have written them, but we lived them.

And then came 2000...and everything changed.

That year marked the release of 3rd Edition, and with it, the true dividing line between old-school and new-school D&D. It wasn’t the 1989 launch of 2nd Edition that splintered the player base. It was the OGL, the d20 boom, and the re-imagining of the game as a more balanced, codified system. It introduced a new design era, one heavily influenced by the structure and sensibilities of video games, MMOs and tactical skirmish rules.

From that point forward, the DNA of D&D started to shift. Not for the worse—but certainly away from its roots.

So who, then, are the true heirs to “old school?"

This awesome art made a huge impression on an 8-yer old gamer...

In my view, it’s the "hybrid generation": the kids who played Moldvay and Mentzer versions of Basic, who experimented with 1st and 2nd, who witnessed the transition but were shaped by the era before it. We’re the ones who were some of the last who grew up on when D&D was scribbled maps, inconsistent rules, and house-ruling everything from initiative to encumbrance. We’re the ones who saw the pulp inspirations firsthand, (but not necessarily the pulps themselves). Those who read The Sword of Shannara and The Hobbit before we even heard of Vance, Lieber, or Moorcock. Our aesthetic and influences were already a generation removed, but the game wasn't per se.

We were the last generation raised solely on print modules, on Dragon Magazine articles, on clashing art styles from Elmore to Otus. We didn’t just play D&D, we absorbed it in all its chaos, contradictions, and creativity. When we eventually aged out, the game moved on without us. But the memory of what it was that remains with us and all at a time before the rise of the internet.

So yes, the OSR (Old School Renaissance) has taken up part of the mantle. But it’s not the same as having been there. You can emulate the rules. You can recreate the vibe. But you can’t replicate the culture of discovery and experimentation that surrounded the game in its early years. Fans who superscribe to OSR have their own place in all this in my pinion it simply differs on the the lineage.

Eventually, even we hybrid players will be gone. And when that happens, the link to the original age of RPGs, warts and all, will be gone too. What’s left will be interpretations, homages, and inspired re-imaginings.

Still, it’s a fascinating position to hold: one foot in the origins, the other foot in the modern age. Not the pioneers, but the last of their direct descendants. It also mirrors a lot of Gen Xs experience in life so probably not too surprising.

And maybe that’s not such a bad place to be.

Edition Wars Redux: D&D vs. Pathfinder and the Cycle of Schism

VS.

Taking a short break from Warhammer, I wanted to share some thoughts on the current rift brewing between modern Dungeons & Dragons and Pathfinder. Not as a partisan—but as an outsider. I say “outsider” because I’m not really on either side. No one in this fight is on my side, and frankly, I don’t have much skin in the game.

I don’t play either version

Not my cup of tea either...

Pathfinder is, for all intents and purposes, the natural continuation of D&D 3.0/3.5 after Wizards of the Coastpivoted sharply into 4th Edition territory. Paizo wisely stepped in and offered a home for those cast adrift by 4e’s direction. Thanks to the OGL, they could legally build on the previous edition’s bones—a twist of fate that’s nothing short of poetic. And from all accounts, Pathfinder has done very well for itself.

But for many long-time gamers like me, D&D stopped being “our game” long before Pathfinder ever hit the scene. Some folks fell off with the release of 2nd Edition. For me, it was 3rd. I bought the core books, gave them a go, and found them… meh. Then 3.5 dropped not long after. It felt like a video game on paper. Over time, it began to resemble World of Warcraft more than Dungeons & Dragons.

What finally sealed it for me was the creeping prevalence of phrases like “character build” and “optimized path”. If your tabletop RPG revolves around those concepts, you’re either going to attract MMORPG players—or you’re already emulating that structure, consciously or not. That isn’t inherently bad—but it is a far cry from the games many of us grew up with.

Now, this isn’t to say older editions didn’t have powerful characters or min-maxing, but that wasn’t the point. Today, characters are often designed with end-game blueprints in mind. There’s a roadmap to becoming a specific “build.” What you play matters less than what you build. And for me, that’s a shame. Don’t get me started on equipment overload.

Now before anyone places me as an old-school purist; hold up. I’ve played 3.0, 3.5, and enjoyed d20 Star Wars quite a bit (honestly, more than the West End d6 version). I don’t hang out on the Knights & Knaves Alehouse, and I’ve disagreed with my fair share of Dragonsfoot arguments. I’m not anti-WoW or anti-modern gaming. If I had more free time, I’d probably play the hell out of it. I truly believe people should play what they love.

But not everyone feels that way. And that’s where this schism starts to resemble something eerily familiar.

We've Been Here Before...Twice

his whole D&D vs. Pathfinder showdown? It’s basically the 1989 edition rift all over again—but magnified.

Back then, Gary Gygax was forced out of TSR after Lorraine Williams took the reins. When 2nd Edition dropped, it came with the baggage of her reputation. A lot of players rejected it not because of radical rules changes, but because of who was behind it. And to be fair, mechanically, 1st and 2nd Edition aren’t all that different. It was more about the drama behind the scenes than the game it

Sound familiar?

Back then, the fan-base fractured into edition loyalists. Now, we’re seeing a repeat—but this time, it’s companies going head-to-head. Wizards of the Coast vs. Paizo. D&D vs. Pathfinder. And just like last time, lines are being drawn, and sides are being taken.

Except now the stakes are higher. The editions are more divergent. The business models more aggressive. And the player base more fragmented than ever.

Wizards of the Coast pulling a bait and switch?

 

The Market Is Shrinking—and Splintering

Some in the Old School Renaissance like to believe that retro clones and classic games are on the rise. And sure, in a niche sense, they are. But let’s not kid ourselves: the market for any tabletop RPG is smaller than it was in its 1980s heyday. And within that smaller market, we’re seeing further division. Instead of unity, we get micro-communities and echo chambers.

The irony is that D&D, once the 800-pound gorilla of the hobby, now feels more like QuarkXPress circa 2002—slow to adapt, vulnerable to competitors. Could Pathfinder be the InDesign of our hobby, quietly taking over while the original giant stumbles?

It’s possible. Pathfinder is gaining steam. Paizo has momentum. Wizards has the name, but that’s starting to feel like an anchor more than an asset. Worse, Wizards' strategy around “Essentials” and rumored plans for a new edition feel like confusion, not clarity.

If 5th Edition ends up being yet another hard turn from what came before, they risk alienating what's left of their already fractured fan base. And if the goal is just to get people to re-buy books again and again, well… eventually, players notice. 

Same Circus, Different Clowns

At the end of the day, we’ve seen this before. The fan base fractures. The “wars” get fought online. And somewhere in the background, players just want to roll dice and tell stories.

So maybe it’s not a Kid Rock song—but it does feel like déjà vu. Once again, we’re at one of those once-in-a-generation turning points for the hobby. Last time, the split was ideological. This time, it’s corporate. And as usual, the players are caught in the middle. 

As a (mostly) disinterested observer, I’ll keep watching. Neither company is making what I want—but maybe that’s okay. Maybe that’s the lesson here: the industry doesn’t need to serve me anymore. But it does need to decide what kind of game it wants to be—and who it wants to keep around.

Because if things keep splintering like this, there might not be many left.

My Perspective on Dark Elves, 1st and 2nd Edition AD&D – Part II

The source of so much spilled "digital ink."

In a previous post I talked about my personal road and involvement in playing dark elves in Advanced Dungeons and Dragons. I've played one dark elf in 1st edition (around 1986/7) and one in 2nd edition (1997/2000) since 1982; not a bad track record. My dark elf for 1st edition coincided with me purchasing Unearthed Arcana with my own cash which was a huge moment for me. Interestingly enough both coincided with two of the best campaigns I ever played in.

In 1989 the gaming world changed with the introduction of a character by R.A. Salvatore called Drizzt Do’Urden and since then grognards the world over have labeled this event along with Lorraine Williams as the worst things ever to happen to Advanced Dungeons and Dragons (I think it was 3rd and 4th edition that was the worst but that's just me). I fully agree with the Lorraine Williams part, the second, not so much and here's why.

Look at what changed, I mean what really changed. TSR hit a gold mine with what was morphing into a major character that rivaled Spiderman to Marvel Comics. Think about this: at one point in the late 80's there were four Spiderman titles in a month, four! Was he overexposed? Most assuredly, but more to the point Marvel was smart — they were using their most well known property to gain more sales. Smart companies do this and if I was in the same boat I'd probably do the very same thing. So with that realization it was all Drizzt Do’Urden all the time everywhere in the Realms. If this was say for a character from Greyhawk I don't think there would be this much gnashing of teeth this many decades later. Gord anyone?

In a way I don't think anyone can fault TSR for having him appear so much. In this sense Drizzt is no different than Marvel using Spiderman as their poster boy and the parallels are somewhat similar as to why they were so popular:

• Loners (by and large)
• Both misunderstood by the "public at large"
• Both intrinsically good, despite those they protect not understanding them

By and large this probably describes large numbers of teenage boys who probably formed the largest readership of the character. I don't look down on anyone who might make their teenage years easier — one knows they are hard enough as it is.

So with all that said what makes Drizzt whiny and not Peter? I really don't think either are personally but maybe that's me. I think much like Ravenloft, Dragonlance's D1-15 and Drizzt it's a case of people's impression of them that means "this is so" rather than what it might actually be. Look through Dragonlance, some think its "rail-roady", sure it is to a point but that's what happens when you mirror a series of books and vice-versa. Peter could be pretty darn whiny, especially in the early days. Rarely does Drizzt's mask slip, it may have later as I stopped reading the series after Siege of Darkness.

I think the problem that exists for the old time gamers is the fact that it changed the idea of Dark Elves very much from what Gary Gygax imagined them in the Fiend Folio and D1-3 the Drow Series (the companion to the Giant Series G1-3). 

The problem I have with that is that what was Gary imagining from exactly? Traditionally Dark Elves were a Norse idea and I see some direct influence there. If one looks at the literary sources of say Tolkien, his dark elves are those that never beheld the Light of the Trees of Valinor, again something very different. I like Gary's imagining in D3- Vault of the Drow as opposed to say the City of Menzoberranzan boxed set (circa 1992) but both have merits. Newer school players are probably bound to like the latter. Doesn't mean that either is wrong, but in over two decades of gaming archetypes are bound to change. Whether they want to admit it I'm guessing that the people consuming the media and games have changed as well.

Another problem I see with this over-arcing theme of dark elves is that once someone played in or read G1-3, and D1-3 the cat was largely out of the bag anyways. It's not like you can stuff that particular genie back in the bottle again. Then the issue was compounded with the explosion of Salvatore's writing and the Forgotten Realms shifting to the default campaign setting for Advanced Dungeons and Dragons. I think this also speaks to a larger problem as well: the politics of TSR, the ouster of Gary and the fact that second edition was starting to become more and more of a reality to the older generation of Advanced Dungeons and Dragons gamers. This lead to a massive schism that still reverberates today which I won't delve into here.

Expounding on this further then brings to nature of the character Drizzt. Many of the old guard simply label him as a munchkin character that is over the top and breaks the rules of the game. That may be so, but if anything he fits better rules-wise in 1st edition, and after all 1st edition allowed for the playing of dark elves as characters by none other than Gary... It's important to note that while I'm a big fan of Greyhawk in terms of a campaign setting (with all its clunky weirdness that goes hand in hand with it) it's not like the World of Greyhawk is not without its munchkin characters either: Again, Mordenkainen and the Circle of Eight anyone? So when you throw all of this together a rather combustible mix is starting to brew.

So why might that be? I think Drizzt also came about at a certain time (the late 80's/early 90's) that were much different than the 70's and what the gamers then grew up with in terms of reading. Keep in mind reading being the primary mode for the transmission of these ideas or by mail ;) In some cases the older generation of gamers and wargamers grew up with the likes of Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon and such. Harryhausen's movies were also likely to be big in their formative years. For the newer gamers and the ones that straddled that line (like me) we were exposed to a wide variety of things and to us our first introduction to say Conan was through a movie rather than the books. I guess what I'm trying to say here is that the character-type is different than the player. The player identifies with the character, but is the character type tainted by the player type? I wonder if some of the "good" drow syndrome was related to the "Worf syndrome"; surely there had to be some Klingons that weren't rat bastards? right? (Don't look at me I liked the Romulans better, even though Worf may have influenced one of my dark elves...)

If the argument that the character of Drizzt attracts a certain type of player, then I would agree with that and that is where the problem lies. Looking over multiple forums that cater to multiple editions this is the sense I get. It would seem that many old-schoolers are continually beset with new school players wanting to play drow rangers dual wielding scimitars. I doubt that's the case for everyone, but lets go with it for a moment. If that's the case then I count myself lucky as I've never had to deal with that in my group. While this maybe is indeed a problem, I can certainly understand why someone would want that escape. We play this game as a means of escape if only for a little while. What many younger players might want is an escape for any number of reasons where they are victims of their surroundings per say or things that are terrible in their regular everyday lives. Its easy to sit back and disparage kids for wanting to play out some fantasies of not being the victim and the butt kicker, to give it out rather than have to take it. I see nothing wrong with that. Some will counter with: "What about the 40-year guys doing this?" Well is that a problem with the character/stereotype they want to play, or that type of player? I'd say the latter.

So how does one reconcile the imagery of dark elves in this day and age? I'm not sure you can. Because it's reached such a level in the gaming community especially the Dungeons and Dragons community that it's a touch-point for certain factions. I'm not going to worry about Dungeons and Dragons 3.0, 3.5 or 4 because they represent such a departure for what many consider Advanced Dungeons and Dragons that it's largely irrelevant to the people that would be playing the older editions of the game. As I noted on Dragonsfoot the first order of business to reclaim the dark elves (if that is indeed your aim) is at once the easiest and toughest: no Dark Elf PCs. This might cause an uproar in your group depending on the players, but then you don't have to worry about the "Drizzt Syndrome" of certain types of players wanting to play him. 2nd point: return them to being monsters of an unknown quality rather than known the world over; think about it in this sense:

• In the Forgotten Realms - Dark Elves are evil, wicked and downright sadistic. All over the Realms people know they are evil, have heard of them etc. But how is this so for such a "rare" race? Seems like plenty of the common folk have plenty of advanced knowledge of deep underground races. Unless this is of course because they raid so often?
• In the World of Greyhawk Dark Elves are evil, wicked and downright sadistic. People know they are evil, but yet at the same time barely know of them... How can either of these be?

In a pseudo medieval setting most people are going to have extremely limited knowledge of really ancient legends. Dark elves fall in that category. They are going to be worried about farming, winters and "real" monsters like goblins, orcs, hobgoblins and ogres; the ones that they do know of and probably have seen with their own eyes. So how would most folk hate and fear them if they are that rare?

The answer is that the imagery of dark elves is so muddled in Advanced Dungeons and Dragons that you have to separate out just what they are. Or at least separate player expectation. The DM needs to make a decision of how they are presented in his world. Are they mysterious and unknown? If so it stands to reason that most people would have no idea what they are if they saw one and certainly would have no idea of them being the "bogey-man" race that they are presented as. The Forgotten Realms is more guilty of this than Greyhawk per se. In Greyhawk the dark elves are largely unknown and I think the less a DM allows them the better off things will be.

For 3rd edition art, not too bad.

Another benefit of making them unknown is that it eliminates one of the main role-playing reasons why someone might want to play a certain drow ranger clone: if people aren't going to automatically want to kill them on sight it negates the tragic hero angle right off the bat. If the default meme of the last twenty years is gone, what incentive is there for these players to play the same thing they read about? There isn't and there is the beauty of it: they can then be free to play their dark elf as something else, not what they read in a book.

Dark elves do not have to be a touch point like they have been prior, they can be more of what they used to be. It merely takes more effort than it used to.

With all that said, I'm looking forward to writing my first dark elf inspired adventure and for 1st edition Advanced Dungeons and Dragons rules no less. It will be a replacement for Q1 - Queen of the Demonweb Pits, it's very much in need of a better ending and hopefully I can deliver. UPDATE: not long after I started it was noted on Dragonsfoot that someone already done the work: Skein of the Deathmother by John A. Turcotte. Well, that saved time!

In closing for my own part I'm fairly neutral in this as I grow older, having played two dark elf characters since 1982 hardly makes me a fan-boy for them as in both cases it was what my inner muse whispered at the time. I guess playing Warhammer also affected how I viewed dark elves as well as the imagery there is a whole 'nother discussion in and of itself.

Oh and one last thing from D3 by none other than Gary Gygax:  

"In the right hand cage there is a dark elf fighter/magic-user of 4th/4th (HP: 24, no armor, 12 strength, 18 intelligence, 9 wisdom, 18 dexterity, 15 constitution, 13 charisma) placed into captivity yesterday and paralyzed by the spider demoness. He is Nilonim, a dissident Drow captured in Erelhei-Cinlu where he led a band of rebels attempting to overthrow noble rule. He is of neutral alignment with a slight tendency towards good deeds."  

Interesting stuff, were the seeds for the explosion of good Drow contained within? I'm not saying Gary intended anything by this, but it had to have been in there for some reason.